


Supposing is Bad Actually

by codenametargeter



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-31
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2020-04-05 07:48:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19044238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/codenametargeter/pseuds/codenametargeter
Summary: In which Cullen really needs to stop responding to war table requests from the Inquisitor before he's fully awake and aware of what he's writing.





	Supposing is Bad Actually

**Author's Note:**

> This was on my list of 'Dragon Age fanfic I'm not allowed to write' because I'm supposed to be working on other things. Oops?

“You suppose? YOU SUPPOSE?”

Cullen stared studiously at the chessboard, hoping that maybe if he pretended the Inquisitor wasn’t storming across the gardens towards him that she wouldn’t be doing precisely that when he looked up. His opponent for the afternoon’s game wasn’t helping. “Ooo, what ever have you done, Commander?” Dorian asked, the Tevinter mage not even bothering to try to hide his mirth.

“Do you have to do this?” Cullen said, the smallest hint of a whine in his voice.

“Do what?” Dorian said before raising his voice and gesturing grandly with one hand towards the dark haired woman who stalked towards them. “My dear Inquisitor, would you care to join us? I think you’ll find that the Commander is already losing one battle today.”

Lady Danae Trevelyan, the head of the Inquisition, was not a particularly tall women but she had a presence about her sometimes that made her seem as if she was taller than even the Iron Bull. It was that very presence that surrounded her now. He got to his feet but it didn’t much help even though he had a good half a foot of height over her. “Is there something I can help you with, Inquisitor?”

She had a piece of paper scrunched in her hand that he recognized as their most recent correspondence which he may have been far too tired when he’d scrawled a response to early that morning. Working so early was hardly his preference but the papers did seem to pile up otherwise. “You _suppose_ you can send one single solitary man to Antiva for me?”

“Perhaps I could have phrased that better,” Cullen said, putting his hands behind his back and adopting the familiar military stance for comfort in the face of danger.

“I have given everything I have to this Inquisition,” the Inquisitor continued as if she hadn’t heard him. “I didn’t ask for this damn anchor and I didn’t ask to be made its leader and every damn time you or Leliana or Cassandra or whoever asks me to do something, I drop everything and I do it because it’s for the good of the bloody Inquisition and _someone_ has to save the world.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Dorian pouring himself another glass of wine and then leaning back in his seat like he was at some sort of Orelesian theatre performance. He considered the mage a friend but right now, it was hard not to hate him just a little for enjoying this.

“But the one time—the _one fucking time_ —I ask for one lousy messenger to deliver a letter for me and I get a reluctant sigh as my response?”

“I didn’t sigh,” he muttered, eyes dropping to the ground for a minute before making himself look her in the eye again.

Without blinking, she handed the crinkled paper to Dorian who blinked. “Why don’t you read this out loud for us, Lord Pavus?”

Dorian blinked. “Ahh, I’m really just here as a-”

“Dorian.”

Shooting Cullen a vaguely apologetic look, Dorian took the parchment and cleared his throat, reading the words the former Templar had scribbled there before dawn. “I… suppose I _could_ send one of my people to issue the challenge to a duel.” Somehow the words sounded even worse in his drawl voice. “If that is your command?” Dorian set the parchment down. “I’m afraid I must side with the Inquisitor on this one, Commander. There is most certainly a reluctant sigh in there. And just who are you planning to duel, Danae?”

Cullen spoke before Danae could. “I am simply thinking of the Inquisition, milady. You already have work aplenty and while these Antivan duels don’t usually go to the death, we cannot risk your safety for something like this and I cannot believe that Lady Josephine thinks otherwise.”

For the first time since she’d entered the gardens, Danae looked worried instead of furious. “Josie… Lady Josephine doesn’t know.”

“Oh?”

“She may have strongly hinted that I shouldn’t do this.”

There was nothing Cullen could do to stop himself from actually sighing. “Inquisitor, perhaps you should listen to our ambassador then. If she’s cautioning you against this than it may be best if we respect her wishes and allow her family to handle things their own way.”

“I… I can’t.” Her shoulders lumped forward and she pinched the bridge of her nose. “Josephine said that it could take months to negotiate an appropriate dissolution of the betrothal without insulting everyone involved and I can’t…” Her last few words were lost to a mumble that he couldn’t quite make out.

“You can’t what?” Cullen asked.

“I can’t even kiss her anymore. It wouldn’t be _proper_.” Danae’s cheeks flamed red and she made a grab for Dorian’s wine glass, which he neatly moved, out of her reach.

Dorian made a tut-tuting sound with his tongue. “This one is mine, Inquisitor,” he said before pouring her a glass anyways and handing it to her. She promptly drank half of it as Dorian gave him a look that plainly said _you’ve gotten yourself into quite a mess here, Commander. How ever shall you get yourself out?_

Cullen cleared his throat and folded his arms across his chest. “Inquisitor, I… you have my deepest apologies for my thoughtless reply. I find it difficult to put aside the military man at times. I will dispatch my fastest rider to deliver your challenge to this Lord Otranto.” He paused. “If that is your request?”

Something seemed to pass over the Inquisitor and both the embarrassment and anger seemed to lift from her shoulders. She even managed a smile. “Yes, Commander Rutherford, that will do nicely. Would you mind letting me know once this rider has left Skyhold?”

“Of course, Inquisitor,” he said with a slight bow.

That left them staring somewhat awkwardly at each other because really what were they supposed to do now? Finally, Danae cleared her throat and handed the half-empty glass back to Dorian and said, “Well. Now that that’s settled. I’ll let you two get back to your game,” before turning on her heel and making a deliberate yet decidedly hasty exit from the gardens.

Dorian smirked as Cullen retook his seat. “An excellent save at the end there, Commander. You’re quicker with your tongue than I would’ve guessed.”

“Thank you. I think.”

“I rather thought she was about to take off your head or perhaps another body part you’re somewhat attached to.”

“You weren’t helping.”

“Oh, was I supposed to?” Dorian took an infuriatingly long sip of wine, raising both eyebrows at Cullen’s cranky expression as he did. “Terribly sorry, I didn’t realize.”

“Liar,” Cullen said without any real venom in his voice. He’d been friends with and played chess with the mage for too long now for him to have expected the other man to act any other way. “Back to the game, shall we? I have a match to win and a challenge to send.”

He just really hoped that he could be there when Josephine found out.


End file.
